Three Curses
by CynicAlb
Summary: John Watson is cursed. One-shot.


Three Curses

This is the first of three curses credited to the Chinese, I thought they fit well with how John's life has been shaping up.

* * *

1. May you live in interesting times.

Dr. John H. Watson thought that life was dull, and compared to the life he'd left behind in Afghanistan, living in a one-room bedsit and seeing a therapist once a week, his life in fact very dull. John didn't know how to live in the silence in peace; he knew what living was, it was jumping in and fighting for the things you believe in, whether it was in the operating theater or the battlefield. But now he couldn't be anywhere he was familiar with he wasn't fit, and some days, his really bad days he wondered why he fought so hard to stay alive; on those days he considered what it would be like not to live at all.

He was having one of those days, when on a whim he decided to walk through a park near his old medical school, and came across his old acquaintance Stamford. Stamford had gotten old and fat, but looked happy, content with his life, living in the silence suited him. He wasn't someone John considered a friend, but on bad days he tried desperately to remind himself that he was alive and that was in fact a good thing. Stamford blissfully ignorant of the role he played in keeping that old hand gun in its draw, became instrumental in finding John the one thing he craved most of all; a battlefield.

221b Baker St. and Sherlock Holmes, were John's salvation, or at least that's what he believed. Being the friend of the world's only consulting detective meant that he was fighting again, it was a brand new way to live and John was ready to embrace whatever it could throw at him.

What could you say when you're life was suddenly filled with murders, corpses and body parts in the fridge; when being kidnapped by psychopaths, or the Chinese mafia was your average Tuesday? One thing was for sure, his life wasn't dull anymore.

* * *

2. May you come to the attention of important people.

Mycroft Holmes was a very powerful person, 'the most dangerous man you'll ever meet', 'the man who runs the British government', if Sherlock was to be believed, and he was, unless he was doing an experiment on you. John knew Mycroft had control of the CCTV cameras, public call boxes, access to his therapist's notes, his military file, and he could find him anywhere in London, no matter what time of day, he also apparently had unfettered access to secret government installations without even making an appointment.

But John didn't like bullies, he didn't like Big Brother, literally in this case, looking over his shoulder wherever he went and from the first he wasn't impressed by Mycroft's obvious power-play in the warehouse. John Watson knew how to deal with bullies, whether from the playground, the Middle East or some mysterious branch of the British government, the only way to deal with bullies was to stand-up to them.

So, Mycroft did the spy's equivalent of baring his teeth, hissing and making himself look big when John stepped on to his territory via Sherlock Holmes, for the first time, at least that's what it looked like at first. In hindsight though, it was a warped kind of vetting from the older brother. Mycroft wanted to make sure that John had the stones to deal with Sherlock, and since he walked away from the meeting unscathed apparently he passed inspection.

* * *

3. May your wish be granted.

The headstone was very Sherlock, black granite with no dates. The deliveryman said it had been ordered by the funeral home, part of a preneed Sherlock had set-up. Making his own funeral arrangements was very Sherlock as well. He probably thought it was mysterious, just the name thing, or maybe for Sherlock the practice of marking the dates on the gravestone was unnecessary, anyone visiting would know the dates, and informing the general grave going public was rather ludicrous, when you think about it, and John was positive that Sherlock had thought about it.

John had thought about it too, it was hard to be surrounded by the fragility of human bodies and not think about your own end, though John doubted Sherlock had thought about it like that, he probably thought he was the only one who should decide what happened to him after death, though John was half surprised Sherlock hadn't donated himself to science. There was probably some reason for that, he always had the details buttoned down, but Sherlock would never tell him now. He would never call him an idiot and explain slowly to him why he had chosen not to put dates on his headstone, in a way that told John it was obvious and asking was stupid. Perhaps it was obvious, the mind of Sherlock Holmes was unfathomable.

Most people don't think about their after death arrangements unless they're terminal, and if they do it's more burial or cremation not what type of stone to use for the grave-marker. John while had considered what kind of burial he'd like he hadn't gone as far as designing his own headstone. The order for Sherlock's was activated by the funeral home, and the stone had been delivered four weeks later, exactly to order. Sherlock would be pleased by their efficiency, and he would be completely disappointed by John's sentiment standing and talking to the thing like he was. He could hear Sherlock now, 'It's only a stone John, my body is six feet under it, and in no condition to hear whatever you're saying.'

John smiled despite himself, blinking back the tears in his eyes as he walked away. All he could think was 'Don't be dead Sherlock. That's all I want. Just don't be dead.' Then a thought dawned on him, quietly in the back of his mind there was another reason why there was no date of death on the stone. John smiled perhaps he would get his wish after all.

* * *

Author's notes: I'm aware that the BBC avoids putting dates on grave stones to avoid dating a show, but I like my version better. :D

I hope you guys enjoyed this, I just had that first curse in my head and it wouldn't let go, then I did some research and found out there were two more and well, this is the result. It's my first foray into Sherlock fandom, I didn't want to go there because I just got into Merlin but alas that darn muse dug its teeth in and wouldn't let go! This plot bunny also gave birth to another and I will be posting that one just as soon as a resolution presents itself. Happy Monday everyone!

Later

cynic


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